by Don Russell
An elemental fury seems to radiate from some women who decorate their bodies with tattoos. I find it so alluring. It gives them such power, like an erotic force of nature.
I was driving along a winding New England road in early autumn, when I suddenly came upon a stoplight controlling traffic over a narrow covered bridge. Ahead of me in line was a motorcycle with a huge bear of a man and a long-legged blonde. Her cutoffs were very short, and she wore a black leather jacket with the name “Sonya” painted in red on the back. While I watched, she tucked one long, suntanned leg of hers into his lap and wiggled the bike and her ass at me. Then the light changed, and on a silver puff of smoke they roared away.
When I stopped for coffee a few miles later, I saw the same motorcycle—no mistaking that classic Harley with its lovingly polished maroon fenders and just the right amount of chrome—parked outside the tiny diner. I hurried inside for another look at the leggy blonde. I wasn’t disappointed. I spotted the tall warrior queen and her bestial escort sitting at a table across the empty room. I went to the counter and ordered my coffee.
I couldn’t see much of her figure behind the table and the leather jacket. I did notice that her hands were slender, with long straight nails that looked like her own. They had the same clear polish and white tips I had often seen on stylish ladies in much better restaurants. Her face was tanned and smooth-looking, with high cheekbones and wispy eyebrows. Her nose was straight and a little pointy, but neither too big nor too small for the rest of her features. Her mouth was wide and, with its touch of dark-red lipgloss, would have looked too big if her strong jawline hadn’t held it up so well.
She and the biker were having an animated discussion. When she tossed her full blonde hair back, I saw that along with a large silver-and-turquoise earring, she had three tiny gold rings lined up along the helix of her left ear. Moments later, she tossed her hair the other way, and I saw a matching earring, but no tiny rings, on her right ear. She spotted me then and raised her eyebrows. Her companion noticed and looked around. The look he gave me could have meant many things, none of which I wanted to know. She said something to him, and he turned back to her.
Their argument grew more heated. Finally he got up and stalked out. After a moment she ran after him. The big bike coughed to life and roared away, leaving behind the blonde amazon in the parking lot. I hastily paid my check and went out to offer her a ride to wherever she needed to go. She tilted her black-lacquered aviator shades down her nose and studied me over the top of them. Her cruelly beautiful mouth quirked up on one side, and she got into my car.
Sonya directed me to a lonely mountain road and told me to stop. She got out and said there was someplace she wanted to show me. I hesitated.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Scared?”
I blushed crimson. She took me by the hand and led me across a chuckling brook and into the woods. We came to a moss-and-pine-needle-filled clearing on the sunny side of the hill. Sonya slipped off her leather jacket and let it fall to the ground. Then she took off her shirt. The light breeze made the pink nipples on her full breasts crinkle and stand out. The sun flashed off of a tiny gold ring, exactly matching the three in her left ear, suspended from the tiny fold of skin at her navel. “Go ahead, lover boy,” she said, “you know you want to, don’t you?”
I fell to my knees before her and pressed my face against her soft, flat belly. I drank in the smell of her—the musky, tangy smell of aroused womanhood. I kissed the top of her belly, then one side and the other. I zeroed in on her navel, probing it with my tongue. I lifted the gold ring with the tip of my tongue and played with it, pushing as much of my tongue as I could through the tiny, unyielding circle. Sonya ran her hands through my curly black hair. One hand grabbed a fistful at the back of my head and pressed me against her, while the other cupped my ear. She traced the folds of my ear with the long nail of her middle finger and teased the opening of the canal.
This always turns me rock-hard, and my jeans got unbearably tight. As the topside of my cock chafed against the rough fabric, I moaned and pulled away. I sat back on my heels and popped loose my belt and fly, and gave a sigh of relief. Sonya chuckled deep in her throat and dropped to her knees.
Our tongues met before our lips did. For a while we played a game where I tried to wrap my tongue around hers, but she was almost always too quick. She darted her tongue into every nook and cranny of my mouth.
Just as suddenly, it was gone. She sat back on her jacket and lifted one long leg, resting it on my shoulder. The toe of her white canvas shoe batted my ear. I turned my head to kiss her ankle and saw a prancing pony there. At first I thought the tattoo was badly done; it seemed to have too many legs. Then I realized that this pony was definitely not a gelding.
I licked my way slowly up her leg to the damp crotch of her shorts. I bit her there and pulled away the denim. This time it was her turn to moan. Sonya lifted her ass off the ground and mashed her cunt into my face. I got the hint. I undid the tiny brass snap and jerked the frayed bottom, bursting her zipper as I pulled. Her skimpy black panties came trailing down those long legs. I cast them aside, then stopped and stared.
A panther stalked down her right hip. Its long tail curled across her asscheek, and its lolling tongue lapped at her inner thigh.
“Meow,” I purred, and looked up along her glorious landscape as I lapped at her sweet spring.
Sonya tipped back her shades and looked down at me. “Meow, indeed.”
Her hips bucked toward my mouth. Her one hand held my head again while the other found its way back to my ear. I licked around the edges of her neatly trimmed bush, then slid my tongue along her pussy lips while the panther watched, silently snarling his jealousy. I slipped my tongue into her inner folds and found her clitoris. Her heels pounded my back. Her hands and thighs clutched me to her cunt as her entire body shook and she roared.
“All right . . .” she said after a while. “Now it’s my turn.” She sprang up and knocked me down. She practically ripped my shirt off over my head, disregarding the buttons. Then she yanked away my jeans, hardly stopping to throw my shoes aside, and she pounced.
I feared for my cock and balls, so fiercely did she attack them. She whipped my cock with her strong tongue. Its pointy tip, perhaps mindful of the attention mine had paid to her little gold ring, tried to force its way into the tiny hole at the head of my cock. Sonya went down on my balls, taking one then the other into her mouth. She worked them with her lips, then scraped them with her teeth. And back up to the cockhead again. This time she engulfed me until my head slid past the back of her throat and her cheek rested against my pubic thatch.
I couldn’t take much more of this—I wanted to fuck her—so I pulled her head away. A cool breeze blew across my wet cock.
I rolled her over onto her back and prepared to ram it home when her hands grabbed me. “Easy,” she murmured, “slow and easy.” She placed the head of my cock against her swollen pussy lips, and I slipped in.
Sonya’s pussy was tight, hot, and wet. At the bottom of each stroke, she milked me with her constrictor muscles, and I was flying high. She was flushed from her half-closed eyes to the ends of her spike-tipped breasts. Her chin was tucked in, and she made little groans and gasps as I stroked.
I picked up the pace. At the end of each thrust into her slippery passage, I gave a spurt of force, slamming our groins together. This made Sonya’s tits jiggle and the little ring in her navel jump. I put my hand on one of her golden orbs so I could feel it tremble with each shove. Her jutting nipple burned the palm of my hand. Her own hands went to her mound and pressed down hard, squeezing the velvet roof of her cunt down on top of my cock. It was heaven.
“Come, tiger,” she gasped. “Come with me.” She grabbed my elbows and started pounding her hips upward. I pounded back. Finally her pussy began to tremble around my surging cock. She stopped pounding—just lay before me gasping and trembling all over. I kept ramming my cock home, trying to catch up, wanting to shoot my load into her before her orgasm died. She said, “Come with me!” and shoved one long wiggling finger into my ass.
Oh, how I came! I thought my balls would be sucked into my cock. My sphincter spasmed and clutched at her thrusting finger. Hot ropes of my come filled her cunt and poured out over my balls, and now I was roaring.
We lay together recovering in the pine clearing. I was mesmerized again by her little gold ring rising and falling on her beautiful stomach as she breathed. Then something else caught my eye. I looked up and saw the flash of sunlight on chrome and the twin stars of somebody’s binoculars amid the blazing foliage across the small valley. Detecting the direction of my glance, Sonya asked, “Did you think we didn’t notice you behind us back at the covered bridge?”
“You mean that big guy’s been watching us all this time?” My cock, which had started getting hard while I grooved on her beautiful navel, suddenly dropped.
“Pig Eddy? Yeah, but he’s just my ride for this week.” She noticed the sudden subsidence of my erection, and cupped my penis in her palm. “Ah, is this poor little fellow suffering from stage fright?”
She cupped my balls with her other hand and went down on me again. This time she kept her eyes locked on mine all the while, obviously enjoying the fear and lust that were warring with each other across my face. I had just had the greatest sex of my life and was about to have some more, but a big, undoubtedly jealous biker was watching our every move. After running her pointy tongue up the crease along my cock, Sonya curled her tongue back into her mouth, smiled at me, and said, “Every once in a while, I like to give my boys a show.”
“B-b-boys?”
“Yeah. The whole gang. I’m sort of their queen. They do whatever I tell them.” Then her mouth engulfed me again. I couldn’t have imagined a gang of fiercely independent road warriors bowing to any woman until I met this blonde goddess, who was now trying to swallow the head of my bloated cock.
I lifted her hair up and away from my groin and held it at the back of her head to give our audience a better view. Then I dug my right heel into the matted pine needles so I could slam my hips upward with powerful strokes. Still holding her hair, I fucked her face, giving the whole gang, should they be so inclined, good reason to stomp me into a puddle of slime.
The biker queen’s eyes went wide, but she gulped me down as if she did this every day. Maybe she did. After a few more strokes, Sonya slapped her palm on my corded stomach and pulled her head away. She got to her knees, tossed her hair behind, and straddled me.
With one hand braced on my chest and the other holding my cock in an upright position, Sonya lowered herself until I was engulfed to the hilt in her slippery sheath. She raised her arms and ran her fingers back through her hair. Then she threw her head back and shook her wild mane. I reached up and cupped her magnificent breasts, thumbing her nipples until she straightened her head and gave me a broad smile.
“I really love it when a man gets into the spirit of the moment.” Her stomach rippled, and the golden ring danced as she began squeezing my cock with her pussy muscles once more. Then she leaned back and ground her hips in a circle. The pressure on my cock was incredible. I groaned and rolled my head around on the ground, heedless of the dirt and the pine needles tangling in my hair. Just when I thought I would scream from all the pleasure, she sat up straight and began to pump up and down.
Starting slowly, raising herself an inch or so at first, she gradually picked up the pace until her cunt was sliding all the way up and down my shaft; only the swelling head of my cock remained within her warm folds at the top of each stroke. All too soon I was shooting another steaming load of juicy come inside her.
This made her pound away even faster. The wet smacking sounds must have been audible clear across the valley where the bikers sat watching. I put my hands on her hips and pressed my thumbs down on her mons. This sex goddess threw back her head and growled like a mountain lioness while her come gushed down around my cock and soaked my balls.
Sonya raised her left arm and waved to our hidden audience and collapsed on top of me, squashing her full breasts into my chest. In the distance I heard cheering and clapping and horns beeping. I put one fist in the air and raised my thumb to the sky.
“You fuck real good, lover boy,” she murmured into my chest. Then she picked up her head and gave me a feral smile.